He's My Dad
by Kindali Sidera
Summary: Ron is having a really weird day… or is it? Short little drabble. No spoilers. Come one, come all! ... and no slash this time!


Title: He's My Dad

Author: Kindali Sidera

Rating: K

Warning: Typical fic-idea bashing. You might have nightmares.

A/N: Okay, this idea came to me when my friend Moona Peruna (my wonderful beta) was telling me about a dream she had. The dream went exactly like this… except our Chemistry teacher isn't Snape, she isn't Ron, and I'm not Harry… and the whole snogging and magic and Hogwarts thing isn't going on. Oh, and we usually don't pay attention in Chemistry class, either. But it's the basic idea. Please forgive me for this randomness.

It was Monday morning and, of course, the Golden Trio had Double Potions with the Slytherins… because they only ever had Double Potions first thing Monday morning with the Slytherins. The universe would implode if the schedule changed. Really. Don't ever try to come up with something original and say they had History of Magic or Herbology or something, because they DON'T!

Well, anyway, it was Monday morning and our three heroes were heading to the dungeons, staring longingly at the chirping birds and fragrant flowers outside, as they always did every day they had Double Potions with the Slytherins. As they passed into the stairwell leading to Professor Snape's classroom they resigned themselves to the task that lay ahead of them.

"I wonder what Snape is going to make us do today," complained Ron loudly as they sat down in the back of the classroom.

Hermione shushed him as the man himself walked in, his cloak billowing menacingly, as it always did when he taught Double Potions on Monday with Gryffindors and Slytherins. He tapped the board and stated unenthusiastically, "Work in pairs. Collect your supplies and get started. Your work is due at the end of the hour."

Hermione automatically shuffled off towards a worried looking Neville who seemed to be having a hard time reading Snape's chicken-scrawl. After all, Neville is a complete idiot and always needs Hermione's help in Double Potions with the Slytherins. Poor Neville.

"The Enlarging Potion," read Ron through narrowed eyes. He snorted. "Wonder what Snape uses that for, eh?" Ron wiggled his red eyebrows suggestively.

Harry started puking in Draco Malfoy's cauldron; the image of what Ron had suggested was not settling well in his innards alongside his breakfast.

Ron, meanwhile, was getting their supplies and taking them back to the table. By the time he got back Harry was sitting with nothing spewing out of his guts anymore, wiping his mouth and shaking his head at Ron.

They started working on their potion. And they worked. And worked. The class dragged by, as it usually did when they had Double Potions with the Slytherins. At one point Ron was positive he saw the second hand on the clock move backwards, but then he figured he was breathing in too much of the fumes that were now coming off of their potion. The green color of it was very sickly looking… especially since it was supposed to be pink.

But, finally, the end of class came, and Snape started doing his rounds, checking off everyone's potion.

Ron paled a bit as Snape, stalked towards them, a malicious glint in his eyes. "Well, what do we have here?" he said. After poking the Jell-O-like thing that occupied their cauldron with his nail, he turned to the boys. "Harry, I know you can do better than this," he chided, wagging his finger in front of his face in a very uncharacteristic way.

Ron looked from Harry, to Snape, then back again. "Harry, did Snape just call you by your first name?" He should have been shocked, but it was like his brain was fuddled. He tried to incite his sense of surprise, but it just didn't come.

Harry looked at Ron like he was crazy. "Of course he did, Ron. That's because he's my dad."

Ron nodded his head like he should have realized it earlier, because really, he should have. The resemblance was uncanny; the black hair was a huge clue. Then there was the… well, that was it, actually. But really, the black hair was a dead giveaway. "Yeah, of course." Ron said casually. "I just forgot for a moment." He nodded his head, but before he could say anything else, a severed head that Snape held in his palm, which never made an appearance in the book, started beeping like an alarm clock.

He looked at it crazily. When did Snape get a severed head? He didn't remember that. He was even more surprised when everything started to fade from view. The last thing he saw was Snape pulling Harry into an even more uncharacteristically fatherly hug and then… a red canopy. 

Ron shook his head and glared around wildly. He was in his bed, his alarm clock blaring, and the boys around him were starting to stir, cursing at him and his blasted clock. When his head finally cleared enough for him to think properly, he started screaming like a banshee, which made Seamus run screaming from the room, yelling something about Ron's 'damn Irish heritage.'

"Ron!" screamed Harry from his bed as he punched Ron's alarm clock off. "What the bloody hell are you screaming about?"

Ron shut his mouth abruptly and looked wildly at his best friend. "Just answer me one question, mate," he demanded.

Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

"Who is your dad?"

Harry, not knowing what this was about, answered slowly and cautiously, "James Potter."

Ron nodded in agreement with Harry, and plopped down into his pillows again, falling instantly into a Snape-free slumber. Harry still looked on at his friend, puzzled, but shrugged it off. After all, Ron had weird dreams all the time. Seriously, why would spiders want someone to tap dance?

A/N: Okay, sorry for the Harmony bashing, but I couldn't miss a chance like that. Please, reviews welcome!

M. Peruna the Beta: That was some weird dream of mine…


End file.
